Strange and Beautiful
by AnnHoj
Summary: Greg and Sara are sent to a convention in Washington DC, but are both dreading it. Despite the fact that everything seems to go wrong, can they manage to find some kind of fun in it. I swear it's as close to pure fluff as I can write.
1. Miserable Together

Okay, I got this idea based upon something that happened to me on my last plane trip, and then as soon as I started working on it, the same kind of thing happened on House. It's weird actually, but other than the whole airport thing, the two things are completely different. Excuse me for borrowing lyrics and the titlefrom Aqualung. I just thing the song fits so perfectly. It's my first work in process piece, so my updating might go a little slower. Sorry about any mistakes, I didn't do my usual 5x editing, though I should have.

* * *

_**I've been watching you're word from afar,  
I've been trying to be where you are,  
And I've been secretly falling apart, you'll see.**_

She entered the break room in a huff. She grabbed her mug out of the cupboard and filled it with coffee before sitting down beside Greg on the couch, all without saying a word. She took a long look at the pool of brown before reluctantly taking a sip. As the blue ceramic parted from her lips a slight smile formed upon them.

"I figured you'd need a pick me up after…you know…the news." Greg replied to all the words her gap-toothed grin had said in silence. It was his special premium blend, opposed to the other comparable to motor oil.

"So you heard too…"

"One week paid vacation to DC, boring conferences, and black tie dinner included. Sound like such fun…" That last comment was said in sarcasm, but the rest was nothing but the truth.

"No way, a black tie dinner too?"

"Yep, dressing up, dancing, the whole nine yards."

"Yet another rare occasion to wear the dress hidden in the back of my closet."

"Wait…the black one?"

She didn't know why he seemed so interested, but she answered anyway. "It's the only dress I own…why?"

"I love that one." He was soon elbowed in the side before returning to the coffeemaker for more. "Another cup?" She stopped to look down at her mug that was only half empty. "This might be your only chance. I might not offer again…you know I'm quite stingy with this stuff." She nodded and he poured her more without her having to answer. "Plus if it's not gone by the time Grissom gets here, he'll claim it's partly his."

No sooner had Greglet those words escape from his mouth, Grissom entered the room and headed for the coffeemaker. "Why should I let you drink my coffee?" Give me one good reason." Greg asked, but Grissom took a drink anyway.

"This about the conference, isn't it?"

"Do we have to go?" Greg whined.

"Yes, and it should be Ecklie to whom you're whining, not me."

Sara interrupted, "So what do you have for us today?"

"Nothing actually. It's a slow day for crime in Las Vegas. You can stay here on call or go home…pack your bags…rest up. I'll call you if I need you." Then he just left down the hall for his office.

"Then why couldn't he tell us that before we came in to work." He meant to keep the comment to himself, but Sara overheard and showed a slight smile in agreement. "Okay…I'm going, so I'll see you at the airport bright and early, so don't be late!"

* * *

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate airplanes?" Sara mentioned as Greg fought to keep their carry on bags up in the overhead compartment, opposed to falling down on top of him or anyone else. 

"You'll go to serve a warrant without a gun, but flying at thirty thousand feet is a nightmare. Imagine that." He sat down in his aisle seat beside her.

"No…I'm serious." He could tell it was the truth by the way her hand was grasping the armrest situated between the two of them.

He lightly placed his hand over hers. "It'll be okay." He reassured, softly brushing the back of her hand with his thumb. "I say we plot revenge on Ecklie. He's the one who's making us take this awful plane trip anyway."

"Prank his office?" She considered.

"No, I've already done that."

"How about toilet papering his house?"

"That's kid's stuff."

"Exactly…that's why he'd never figure out it was us."

"You're brilliant…"

"I know." He hadn't realized, but his hand was still sharing the armrest along with hers, until just then when she decided to use it once again to retrieve her book from beneath the seat before the plane took off.

* * *

She awoke to what she originally thought was a freight train or a grizzly bear in hibernation based solely upon the noise she heard before opening her eyes. Though when she did open them she saw neither of those things, but Greg's head resting on her shoulder, snoringdirectly into her ear. 

"Greg…" She tapped lightly on the top of his head. It didn't work, so she did it once again, thoughshe tappedharder and spoke a bit louder. When it didn't work that time she pushed him off and he suddenly woke up.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" He squinted the bright lights from his eyes.

"You woke me up, so I felt it was only fair."

"Oh…did I forget to tell you that I snore?"

"Yeah, you did…and I'll only be spending a whole week sharing a hotel room with you."

Greg's face perked up a bit after her heard her speak. "Really? I thought we'd have two rooms."

"No, the department's cheap…and it's a two bed hotel room, but still…you better not try anything."

"Sara…I would never…"He was rather offended that she could ever think of him in that way.

"I'm just kidding. I'm just glad I didn't have to go with Catherine. She's awful. She takes an hour in the bathroom in the morning and never wants to do anything accept go to conferences."

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'll make sure we have some fun no matter what it takes. And if you hadn't noticed, I don't need an hour to look presentable."

"Oh really," She pointed to the hair sticking straight on end, and this time, not on purpose.

He quickly flattened his hair like she knew he would as soon as she said something. "If we're going to make this trip fun no matter how boring the reason for going really is, I'm going to need your help."

"Deal."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me!" 

"Yep, that's why they post it up in bright red letter for the world to see, simply to confuse everybody." He said as their flight to DC had been cancelled, actually every flight easy from Chicago was cancelled. It was winter, but for two people who lived in Las Vegas, they seemed to have forgotten that the word snow was usually synonymous with winter in other parts of the country.

"We're stuck here until tomorrow afternoon."

"We could get a motel for the night, but we have no luggage, not clothes…no coats, and I doubt we'll find a cab…" Sara didn't want to stay either but she was being realistic.

"So we're stuck here?"

"Exactly."

They were given blankets, pillows, toothbrushes, and other necessities by the woman at the desk who alsoinformed them of the best place to go if they wanted to actually get a good night's sleep, well…at least a better one than they would get surrounded by all the other people staying at their gate. It was terminal G, the last one; it was only used for private planes. It was a lot smaller than those for commercial flights and because it was so far away from everything else, no one really knew it was there. When the first arrived to where they were directed to go, they found that it was true, no oneelse was there,apart from a few maintenance men. It was like a four star hotel in comparison to everything else.

Greg and Sara had picked up dinner to go from a fast food Chinese restaurant they had stumbled upon along the way and were sitting next to a heater where they'd conveniently decided to set up camp.

"Yep, I told everybody I wanted to be an astronaut. I even went to space camp when I was twelve."

"What made your change your mind?" Sara wondered aloud.

"I realized only geeks went to space camp!"

"Oh, and now you would call yourself…what?"

"Hey, look who's talking!" He protested.

"Yes Greg, I know I'm still worse than you…though I never played much chess…and I never got to go to space camp or anything else when I was twelve for the fact."

"Why?"

"I…I didn't have the best childhood."

"Come on Sara…"

"No, I don't want to talk about it, okay!"

Greg batted his eyes and put on his best puppy dog look, but she still refused. "Truth or dare?"

"Come on Greg, we're not kids anymore. I'm not playing."

"It's actually very educational."

"In what way?" She debated back.

"I get to learn more about you…which in my opinion is so much more worth my time than four years of Spanish in high school."

"Truth." She scoffed, finally giving into his childish idea.

"I'll go easy on you…your perfect evening?"

"I don't know…"

"That can't be your answer."

"Something that catches me off guard, surprises me, something different, creative, something that shows me thought was put into it. Specifically…I don't really know." She got up quickly and tossed her garbage into the trash can after she had finished eating. "Your turn." She reminded him, returning to her seat beside him.

"Truth…" He said, lying back to look up at the ceiling waiting for his question.

"Was that rumor really true…twenty-two?" She was vague, but he knew exactly about what she was referring.

"Sadly enough…yes." She didn't laugh like he had expected. "Every other relationship I had hadn't lasted more than two months, and that girl I'd been with for over two years…so what would you expect?"

"No…I was just curious." She decided that second that the ceiling seemed rather interesting, so she lied down beside him, as looking up at the ceiling was a lot less awkward than looking at him right in the face while discussing something she knew he didn't really want to talk about.

"And Nick said he'd keep it to himself."

"Well, I will…except...sorry I let it slip to Mia."

"It's okay…" He slightly smiled over toward Sara, quite embarrassed by it all. Maybe this wasn't the best of his brilliant ideas to suggest.

"Actually…I have more respect for you now than I did before I knew that was true." He looked a bit confused. "At least you weren't like every guy I met in college…How about you ask me my question and change the subject." She offered, and he jumped at the chance.

"Thank you." He laughed nervously. "Which will it be?"

"Why can't these pillows ever be fluffy? I mean, what's the purpose of having a travel pillow if it doesn't work as a pillow?" She continued to fuss with the uncomfortable borrowed cushion behind her head until she finally gave up.

"Let me be you own personal pillow…"

"What?" She sat up quickly.

"Come on, I'm plenty fluffy…" He patted his stomach, though it didn't really prove much.

"Yeah, only because you're wearing a sweater, otherwise you're just a beanpole."

"Sara…you know you want to…" He teased like only Greg could. And for once she actually gave in to it. Either way she would have a pain in the neck, either from trying to lay on the floor or possibly because of Greg's whining if she didn't agree. She turned to lie cross ways, her head rested upon his stomach. "You never answered…it's your turn."

"Oh…truth, I guess."

"What's going on with us? Are we just co-workers, a crime fighting team…friends…what?"

"Of course we're friends, Greg."

"Really?"

"If we weren't I wouldn't be here right now."

"Be where...on your way to a boring convention, stuck in an airport, or preparing to get a good night's sleep on the floor?" His light laughing caused Sara's head to move up and down as his chest rose and fell. He wasn't nearly as fluffy as he said, but it was okay anyway.

"I mean, I would have found someway to get out of going if I had been stuck with Catherine or Warrick. I would be back home being my usual workaholic self."

"But instead, we're miserable together."

"It's better than miserable alone…"

When there entered an awkward silence, one that seemed so familiar to the two of them as it happened quite often. The thing between the two of them was comfortable yet so confusing. Well, actually, it was more uncomfortable for Greg, yet completely confusing for the both of them. They worked together nearly everyday, so she supposed that was how it happened. She knew of his obvious interest, but all of a sudden he was fine with how things were, whatever it was between them. And he found it strange how he at one time found himself constantly rejected, to having it be Sara who was suggesting that they spend time together whilst they were off the clock as well. Sure she considered herself friends with both Nick and Warrick, but there was something different with Greg and her, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was.

Sara's wandering mind was stopped short when she heard a distinct rumbling sound from beneath her. "Greg, you just ate not even an hour ago, now don't tell me you're still hungry?" She sat herself up slightly.

"No, it's just setting…"

"Oh, lovely…my pillow gurgles too." She said rather disgusted by it all.

"You know you'd be going crazy right now if I and my gurgling stomach weren't here with you." He fiddled with the strands of the hair that were loosely lying around her face.

"You know what good came with this bad weather…" He was hoping she would say it was that moment right then, just the two of them and no one else, because that wasexactly what he was feeling, but he doubted that was what she planned to say. "…one day less that we have to actually go to the convention. By the time we get to DC it'll be over for the day and we can do whatever we feel like doing once we get there."

"I would think you of all people would actually like to go to conferences…conventions…or for whatever it is we are being sent there."

"Well, then your 'very educational game' didn't work so well…youdon't know me Greg…"

"Don't worry…I will."

"Greg…I don't like to talk about my childhood…I pretty much didn't have one…" He wasn't sure where she was going by starting up a conversation on the one thing she hated more than anything to discuss. "My father died when I was eight…because of my mother." She didn't know of Greg's shocked reaction, she couldn't see his face, but it took him awhile to say anything in response, and considering it was Greg, that definitely wasn't normal. "My mom was out in an institution and I was sent off to a foster home...just so you know."

"Oh, Sara…" He felt awful, after all, he was the one who asked her about it in the first place. Before he could say anything more, he glanced down to see her eyes closed and Sara drifting off to sleep.

He usually could sleep anywhere and in any situation, but this was quite different. First of all, Sara was still using him for the pillow suggestion so he was unable to move even if he tried. It also made him rather uneasy that Sara was asleep by his side in a dark empty airport terminal. It was weird…so far, the whole trip had been to tell the truth.

_**To me, you're strange and you're beautiful,  
**__**You'd be so perfect with me but you just can't see,  
You turn every head, but you just don't see me.**

* * *

So what do you all think...good...bad...absolutely horrible? What? Well, I'd really like to know, so please tell me._


	2. Airplane Antics

_Finally, I got enough for a chapter. Maybe some of this stuff is a bit out of character for Sara, but I think around Greg she'd be a bit different than she usually is...you know, one personality rubbing off on another person. See what you think.

* * *

_

"Hey you!" She tapped the still sleeping Greg on the shoulder. "Wake up…I've got coffee." She finally found something that worked. He quickly sat up, quick enough that he nearly hit her head with his own on the way up. How was he supposed to know she would be hovering watching him sleep.

She actually had found it rather amusing…entertaining even. Soon after she had gotten up earlier that morning he began rambling on about his adventures at space camp once again, though this time, he was very much a sleep. Then she wondered what all she could possibly do without waking him. First she started talking to him about this space camp he must have enjoyed immensely as a child. He didn't wake up, but she did learn a bit about fellow space cadet Sally andhow her jumpsuit matched her bright blue eyes. She started touching his face, but he must have assumed she was not but a fly because he simply shooed her hand away every time she poked his nose. Next she went for the feet, it made him twitch sure enough and apparently they were ticklish, but even that was ineffective. It was then when she got bored with it all and went to retrieve some coffee for the two of them.

"I know it's not the good stuff, but it's got plenty of caffeine."

"Thanks." He took a sip and laughed. "Hey, it's not half bad."

"Good because our flight leaves in two hours."

"Well, at least we don't have far to go." He paused for a second to pick up the bag of necessities the woman at the desk had so nicely donated to them. "Oh no…I can't do my hair in a bathroom sink with only a bar of soap!"

"Don't worry, as soon as we check in at the hotel in DC you can make yourself presentable." She reached over and messed up is hair more so than a whole night of sleeping had managed to do. "But in all honesty…you just woke up and you look just fine."

"You really think so?" He seemed almost shocked about her complement. She couldn't quite tell by the sound of her voice, but it sounded like a honest question, like he really wanted to know if she thought that, and not just something to draw attention to the fact she actually gave him some kind of a complement in the first place.

Considering that, she answered it rather than leave it rhetorical. "Yes Greg…now go." She pointed across the way to the men's room as she stood and went through the doorway of her own.

So far they had some how killed and hour of the two they had left before their airplane would leave with or without them. Most of that time, or so it seemed to Sara, she had been waiting outside the bathroom door for Greg to come out, though in actuality he took only a few minutes more than herself. They wandered throughout the hub of the terminals, where those master departure boards glowed for the world to see, though on this day there were many more green "on time" messages opposed from the day earlier when more than half were in the red. In that area there were various shops and restaurants. It was there where Sara eyed a small book store, but before she could drag him inside, Greg convinced her that buying yet another mystery novel to get herself so absorbed in that she couldn't stop reading wouldn't be the best idea. First she already had a similar one stashed away in her bag, and frankly, though it might make the flight go faster for her, he found it not so interesting to watch someone else reading. The point was for them to be miserable together, no one engrossed in a good novel and the other watching the cloud pass by outside the window.

* * *

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate airplanes?" 

"Actually…yes, Sara. You did." It was déjà vu all over again, right down to her nervous behavior, the gripping of the arm rest and ever the biting of her fingernails. In a sense, he found it funny, but he dared not to laugh.

"Sorry…" She said with a nervous smile and sits back in her seat and keeps her eyes facing forward toward the thin blonde flight attendant pointing out the emergency exits.

"_And if necessary, your seat can be used as floatation device_." The woman informed the rest of the passengers in an ironic cheerful voice. It was hard to translate what she said. She had most likely memorized the whole speech so well by repeating it for every flight she worked. She could run off the words a mile a minute. But of course, all that couldn't stop Greg from quietly mimicking her actions.

"Really…what are the chances of us having to remember any of this. How often do planes really crash anyway?" Greg asked curiously.

"Don't you say that!" She ordered.

"Why not?"

"Because… you'll jinx the whole thing." She whispered to him as not to disturb anyone from absorbing the important lifesaving information being poured into the cabin. "You know in movies…or on tv, whenever anyone says 'oh, this plane will never crash,' that's exactly what happens."

"I can't think of any movies like that…can you?"

"Well…" She didn't like the idea of being defeated. "I can't think of one of hand…but I know there are some."

"Okay then, you're right." He gave up on the argument, because he knew Sara way too well. She wasn't exactly the type to just give up when she knew she was right and no one else did. "I won't say anything more about the _you know what_ going _you know where_." He mimed down toward the ground soon to be far beneath them.

"Thank you." She said proudly, but the conversation was cut short by the airplane finally taxiing down the runway, getting faster and faster until it lifted up off the ground. And for once, the armrest was free to breathe rather than choked by Sara's tight tense hold.

Despite Greg's objections, Sara took out her book and began to read. In turn he brought out his mp3 player, a Christmas present to himself, to occupy his time. She tried to concentrate on the black type words on the page in front of her, but for some reason she couldn't. Greg sitting right beside her was just too distracting. She could swear that he would go deaf sometime in the near future because although he had a pair of headphones covering his ears, she still could hear not only the music, but most of the words that came out of, whom she assumed was, Paul McCartney's mouth.

"Greg…" She said it too softly, so he could hear her. "Greg!" She said louder and pulled one ear piece out so he could hear something.

"What!" He said merely out of surprise.

"I get it Greg…" She set the book down. "The silent treatment…I mean, sorry if my reading is getting in the way of your fun, but it a really good book and I'm almost done." She was talking to him, but he didn't seem to be listening to a word she said. "Greg?" She noticed the little girl in the seat in front of them. She was turned around looking at them. It wasn't that Greg was ignoring her once again, he was too busy with a game of peek a boo between himself and the little blonde four year old. She would lean towards one side of the seat and he would follow. Every once in a while he'd show her a goofy face and she would giggle.

He was good with kids, unlike herself, though it made so much sense. She had never been a normal kid herself and she had to grow upso fast. Greg on the other hand, he still hadn't grown up and she highly doubted if he would anytime soon. But that was one thing she liked about him. Of course she wasn't always the biggest fan of his goofy antics, but since working with him it had kind of rubbed of on herself. It was nice to have work not seem so serious any more.

"Hey, Greg…" Sara laughed as he turned back to her. "Haven't you heard if you do that too much it'll stay that way?"

"What, did you learn from first hand experience?" He said, not seriously of course. Sara had the look upon her face thathe would probably say was his second favorite, the first, her crooked smile. This particular one came out whenever she found something funny but wanted so badly not to let herself laugh. Her face would scrunch all up, but then the smile would force itself through. It never seemed to keep herself from grinning, and it always made Greg smile twice as big as she was at the time. "But you know…" His voice switched to one which sounded more sincere. "That look…" He pointed to the smile still about her lips. "I wouldn't mind if that froze that way."

"Really?" She had always hated her smile. Ever since she had been a little kid she had never wanted to smile because of that awful gap between her two front pearly whites. But Greg saw it as natural beauty, not a flaw as she did.

"Would I lie to you?" When she thought about it…no, she couldn't think of him ever doing such a thing. He was one of those guys who would hand you all the words you ever wanted to hear, but unlike a lot of those guys,he actually meant every last one of them.

Just then the stewardess, flight attendant as Sara claimed was the politically correct term, went by offering drinks to those coach passengers. "Ooh peanuts!"

"What?" It was kind of a random thing to spout out at that moment, at least she thought.

"I love airplane peanuts…"

"What's the difference between normal peanuts and airplane peanuts?"

"I don't know…but one of them you get to eat at thirty thousand feet in the air and the other you can only eat with your feet on the ground."

"Eating peanuts on land…how boring." She rolled her eyes and just went along with it.

"Why can't the department ever splurge for coach?"

"What…better peanuts?"

"Hey! How did you know?"

He received his beloved peanuts, actually he had two packages, as Sara didn't want her own so she gratefully handed them off to one whom she knew would appreciate them. He would be occupied for a while, she could tell, so she nonchalantly reached down and grabbed her book from beneath the seat. He'd never notice…as long as he had his airplane peanuts.

After they had touched ground in Washington DC, they navigated their way to the baggage claim to…claim their baggage. Greg's suitcase they found rather quickly, though that was mostly due to the fact it was bright lime green. Where in the world he had found luggage of that sort she didn't know, but she figured if it was out there somewhere, Greg would be the one to find it. Sara's on the other hand was boring black, as Greg described it so nicely. Everyone had black ones, so every time they saw one heading around the bend they have to run up and inspect it closer. Lucky it only took six tries to find it.

* * *

"Damn it's cold here." Greg announced as they walked through the automatic doors out of the airport. 

"Yes Greg, it's called snow."

"Yeah, I guess I forgot there was such a thing." He stepped out toward the curb and hailed them a cab, something he knew Sara hated to do.

"But didn't you live in New York before you came to Vegas?"

"Yeah…" He nodded as he opened the door for her.

"Thanks…but how can you live in New York City and completely forget snow even exists seven years later?"

"Since then I've managed to fill my mind with much more useful things than meteorology. Just because I'm a scientist…" He just faded off. She had made her point so what was the point for him to ramble on even more.

Sara mentioned to the cabby, "Harrington Hotel, please."

* * *

"Greg!" She sped up her walking pace to catch up with him further down the hallway. She had been too busy reading the itinerary that she had just been given at the front desk to realize how far away he really was. "Did you know that the day after tomorrow we get to go to FBI Headquarters!" She informed his quite excitedly. 

"Whoa…the mother ship. I guess you'll finally be on your way home."

"Greg…" She scolded. "It's like the Mecca for CSIs…and you are a CSI now...remember."

He unlocked the door to their room with the key card and pushed it open. "Yes, but I thought you were dreading this convention."

"Well, every other day except for the day after tomorrow…" She followed behind Greg through the doorway and set her suitcase down in front of the closet to remind herself to hang up the clothes inside, but that could wait until later. She was tired; a normal day of traveling usually was enough to wear out a person, but she had been on the go for two days, not to mention the awful night's sleep in the airport. She walked across the room and pulled open the curtains to letting insome winter light to the dark room and to get a good look of the beautiful view. After that she let herself fall back onto the bed right beside the window and closed her eyes.

Of course she wasn't asleep, only resting her eyes. She then felt a slight dip in the bed beneath her which caused her to sit up again and open her eyes. "Greg, what do you think you're doing?" She looked over to him suspiciously. He was on the other side, his arms resting behind his head, like he was making himself right at home. "If you think that I'm going to give in and give you the bed with a view…you're crazy."

"Please Sara…" He whined.

"I called it first, tough luck." She tried to push him off on to the floor, but he didn't go anywhere.

"Hey…I wouldn't say that just plopping down on it is the same as calling it. You never said anything. You can't silently call something…that's like…an oxymoron."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere and you can't make me move."

"I think that sounds like a challenge…" The moment he said those words a look of fear came across her face. She curled up into a tight ball thinking she would be harder for him to lift up…he wasn't exactly Nick or Warrick you know. Though she doubted he could do it, in two attempts he had snatched her up and tossed her effortlessly over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, though slightly heavier. Though it was when he turned to carry her over to the other bed on the opposite side of the room, he forgot that he had earlier set his suitcase in the middle of the floor. His foot made contact with the green canvas and the rest up him went flying forward, luckily enough on to the second bed instead of the floor. But if Greg was falling then Sara was the first one to hit with a thud against the mattress, followed by another thud when Greg fell on top of her.

"I'm so sorry Sara…" She didn't say anything in response though couldn't help but glare up to the man above her. "I really am…" He apologized again, his words traveling a short distance from his lips to her own. "Are you okay?"

"Well…I will be as soon as you decide to move." Funny…he had completely forgotten all about that.

He braced his hands on the sheet at either side of her waist and rolled himself over. The whole thing was awkward, enough that he didn't even realize that there was just not enough room on the other side of Sara and he rolled right off the other side and fell yet again on to the floor.

"Ow…" She heard a groan emerge from the floor. She couldn't help but laugh. He helped himself up off the floor and brushed himself off. She was still laughing as he stood upright." "Haha…very funny Sara…" He was not in the least bit amused. He didn't want Sara to be laughing at him, it was embarrassing…and for Greg to actually be embarrassed, now that was odd. Nothing ever seemed to bother him.

"Are you okay?" She asked as the laughter died down. "How about you take the one by the window…I don't think this one likes you very much."

Finally a small smile crept across his face. "Thanks."

* * *

_I've got a few days off for semester break, so I might be able to get another chapter up by Tuesday or Wednesday...but I can't really promise._


	3. Learning Experiences

Okay, I got it finished earlier than I thought, and I know there's going to be more than three chapters like I previously estimated. Anyway, I hope you like where this is going. The song is Strange and Beautiful again, not mine obviously.

_I'll put a spell on you, you fall asleep  
When I put a spell on you  
And when I wake you I'll be the first thing you see  
And you'll realize you love me_

"What exactly are we doing for the rest of the day anyway?" Greg questioned lifting his head off the pillow to glance up at Sara who was at the time unpacking her suitcase and hanging up important things in the closet. She felt that ironing was a pain, but she simply hated wearing wrinkled clothes. "Thanks to our change of schedule, we missed the fun filled events planned for today."

"Thank God." She continued to tidy up the closet, hanging each shirt or pair of pants in the same direction. Greg's were at the time still trapped inside his suitcase desperately fighting off the wrinkles, but he didn't care as much about things like that as Sara did. "The first day is always the worst. Introductions…you know, 'Hello, my name is Sara Sidle. I'm a CSI level 3 at the Las Vegas Crime Lab.'…blah blah blah."

"The Las Vegas Crime Lab…the most productive lab in the country! Beat that Los Angeles!"

"Technically…we aren't."

"But we should be…damn day shift…" He said with a smile. Neither one of them had ever liked them much, most of it had to do with Ecklie. After all, he was their head honcho before his 'promotion' to lab dictator…or so Ecklie himself thought.

"I don't know…I just thought we could take a trip around town, see some monuments…touristy stuff."

"But Sara…" He whined. "…this isn't Vegas. Tourist stuff here is…educational."

"Really, a self-proclaimed geek refusing a potential learning experience?" She was about to close up her suitcase and set it over in the corner when she realized there was one garment left on the bottom.

"Learn what? If I ever become president remember to smile for my portrait and to never ever grow a mustache or beard." Just then she took the last article of clothing out of her bag and grabbed a hanger out of the closet. It was then when Greg's jaw dropped.

"Actually…my head still hurts from the tumble I took…and, oh, I think I'm feeling a little woozy." His acting was actually worked for a second, until he opened his mouth to speak once again. "You know what…I think if you went and put that dress on…I would feel so much better…" She quickly hung it up and smacked him upside the head.

He was still staring. "What is it with you and this dress?" She wanted to know.

"No…you _in_ that dress…a beautiful match." She just rolled her eyes. She didn't find it in the least bit impressive.

"Very funny."

"You really don't believe me?" He was amazed. He had always thought that about her, though of course it definitely was not the only thing he loved about her. He wasn't as shallow as some people may have expected.

"I'm not Catherine…if you hadn't noticed."

"What are you talking about Sara?"

"She's ten years older then me, but just look at her. She's had a kid and still looks like that. And I'm…"

"Just Sara." He finished he sentence before she could.

"Yeah…" She agreed.

"Actually…Catherine should be the one comparing herself to you…not vice versa." Sara never was the kind of women who particularly cared all too much about how they looked or how other people saw them. But for some reason, she did care all of a sudden.

She shook her head and smile. She still didn't quite believe him. "So what sounds good to you…restaurant or room service?"

"Room service."

* * *

Sara was watching the clock on display in the front of the conference room. The minute hand seemed to have taken an hour instead to make any effort of moving from its previous place. So far it had only been five minutes however. There was a guest speaker discussing breakthough methods in evidence collection, most of which they had already used in Vegas. All that the speaker said she had either heard from previous conventions or had read in forensic journals. Maybe it was educational to Greg, he was new, but even that she highly doubted. She could have made a better presentation and she didn't even have a doctorate degree. 

She and Greg had strategically taken their seats in the very back tow of chairs. To those surrounding them would have just figured the pens and paper were simply for taking notes, but they weren't jotting down useless facts they already knew, but like high school kids passing notes between each other. Though in this case, they couldn't have their letter confiscated and read aloud to the class.

"Why were we the one's sent here?" Greg scribbled down on the piece of paper which was nearly full of written ramblings.

"Do they think we're stupid or something?" At the moment the speaker mentioned something about waiting to put on your gloves before further inspecting a piece of evidence. Sara rolled her eyes once again. This was far below basic, it was common sense.

"Even an uneducated ape could figure that one out." He commented.

"Oh, then maybe Ecklie was supposed to be here instead of us. It makes so much sense now." They both felt the need to crack up that very second, though due to the silence that filled the rest of the room, they tried their best to keep from doing so.

"I feel like I'm back in school again."

"Yes and we're the rebel geeks who refuse to take notes because we think we know everything."

"What's new." He sighed and rested his head upon her shoulder.

"Greg?" She looked down. His eyes were closed, but the smirk on his face showed that he was definitely not asleep. "Greg." She rolled her shoulder, but he didn't move.

"When do we eat lunch?" He looked up to her long enough towhisper then continue to use her as a head rest.

She patted him lightly on top of the head before answering. "Two hours…then they set us free."

* * *

After spending the longest two hours Greg had nearly slept though, they finally could escape for lunch. They chose to go to a small café restaurant just down the way from their hotel right in the center of DC's tourist spots. Sara was trying to bribe him with good coffee into thinking that monuments and museums were not boring as he said. 

"Come on…you can surprise Grissom with all of your new acquired knowledge…maybe you can even show him up by quoting some profound thinker…or bug facts that even he doesn't know….Actually, I heard the Smithsonian had this Insect Zoo exhibit or something…"

"Woah! That's like Gil's dream come true!" He wasn't really all that excited. "You really want to go?" He asked honestly, setting his coffee cup down on the table.

"Yes…please." She pleaded.

"Oh…the things I do for you."

Okay, so he wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of visiting the Smithsonian and the Museum of Natural History, but he went along with it just because it was the one thing Sara wished to do while in town. And really, as long as Sara was around, he didn't really mind it much after the fact. At first he compared it to much like his sixth grade field trip, the one he had waited for all year thinking that they were going to some amazing theme park because the class before went there also, only to find out the teacher had chosen to go to the zoo and the science center instead. It was a disappointment at the beginning, but once he got there he actually had fun. Sara had promised that the next day they have on the town, he had first choice on what the two of them.

Greg took close mental notes as they took a stroll through the insect exhibits trying desperately to find and remember something he highly doubted Grissom had heard of before, but he was completely lost. Grissom knew everything, how washe supposed to first one thing that he didn't already have stored up in his brain. So, he pretty much gave that up.

Oddly enough, the guy who spent his summers at space camp was awful when it came to pointing out constellations. When they visited the planetarium all he could find was the Big Dipper and that was even after they had come a cross a visitors pamphlet which had every one clearly labeled. Though the genius himself first looked forever for the little dipper only to find out the paper was upside down. Hey, how was he to know, it was dark…or so he claimed after the fact.

Greg was the one who found it more entertaining that Kermit and Star Wars movies were considered important enough to American History to be included in the museum displays. Kermit, just a pile of green felt and googlie eyes, without a person's hand and their voice, all he does is sit there. Sara knew Greg was one of those people who were avid collectors of Star Wars memorabilia, not to the point where they dress in character and go to conventions of their own, but a fan none the less. She didn't bother to tell him about it before hand, instead she waited to see the look upon his face when they came across the area of the museum where certain movie props were on display under highly protected glass cases. He was stunned, his mouth agape. It was strange to see one person so happy just to see glorified light sticks and a hairy monkey-like suit, so Sara thought. Though, Sara ended up the same way when she realized that even the hat that sat upon Harrison Ford's head whilst the filming of Indiana Jones was included as well. Evidently Sara was a big fan in her younger days. She owned all three movies and watched them every weekend religiously. Greg guessed she just always had a thing for older brainy kind of guys.

She was peacefully sleeping wrapped up in the warm covers of her bed when she heard a voice from the other side of the room. She sat up quickly to see Greg's outline made by the light shining in through the window tossing and turning about. She got up and walked over closer to him. He was mumbling wordsnearly inaudible, but he was still very much asleep.

She carefully sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned closer to hear him.

"Sara…" He said rolling over to his side.

"Yes Greg?" She answered.

"Sara, no…not Grissom…"It sounded almost as if he was having a bad dream.

"Grissom? What about Grissom?"

"He's all wrong…emotionally detached…a workaholic…cares more about bug than you…" He sputtered out in broken phrases,

"Really…"

"…you deserve better…"

She didn't say anything further. She felt awful; he was telling her exactly what was on his mind and he had no idea at the time. What was worse was that it was nothing but the truth, she just hadn't wanted to believe it until someone elsehad forced her to seeit herself.

She returned to her side of the room to attempt to go back to sleep, she didn't want to hear anymore, but it was easier said than done. She was normally an insomniac, she got an average of four hours of sleep a night, but her mind seemed as if it was in overdrive. She was to busy thinking to let herself drift off to sleep. She wanted to make some sense of what was going on with Greg and her. Though they had considered themselves friends, there were certain things they never could talk about, Grissom was one of them.

Greg knew from the start that she was only asking for trouble by setting Gil as her object of affection. She was an emotional person, but Gil would never really be able to be there for her in the way she really needed. He was her boss, and it would only complicate things further. He would have to put his whole career on the line, and Greg knew that Grissom could never do that…but he could. Greg had always wanted to tell her, but he never could find just the right way to go about it.

Another thing they constantly passed right over was Greg's obvious interest in her. She knew how he felt and he knew that she knew. It wasn't a big secret…the whole lab knew about it, but he had never come out and told her. But she figured it had to do with how open she was at the fact that the feeling was most definitely not mutual. It was common sense that he wouldn't pour out his soul when he knew very well it would end in rejection. Though strangely enough she was seriously rethinking all of that.

Greg had resulted in becoming her best friend, the one who was always there to give her the right words, to help her get through the rough spots. It was better than nothing at all in Greg's point of view. He had done all that for her, but what could she say she had ever done for him. She thought he deserved something better.

* * *

She awoke the next morning to a brighter hotel room than she distinctly remembered from the morning before. She rolled over to look toward the window. Greg wasn't there. It was then when she glanced at the alarm clock to see it was forty-five minutes later than she thought it was. 

She jumped out of bed, grabbed the first thing she saw to wear and went into the bathroom to get ready. How dare Greg leave without her on the one day they were going to the FBI headquarters. It was only when she heard a high pitched girl-like scream that she realized she hadn't been abandoned at all.

"Sara!" Apparently he had just stepped out of the shower and managed to wrap a towel around himself before she flung the door wide open.

"Oh…I am so sorry." She quickly turned around to face the doorway, but still didn't leave altogether. "Why didn't you wake me up? We're going to be late!"

"You just looked so peaceful…I couldn't do it." He moved across the tiled bathroom floor over to where she still stood. Though with her back facing him she was unaware until he placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her around to look her in the eye. "How about I forget about my hair…and we should be there on time."

"Thanks." She grabbed her clean clothes and headed back in to the main room. Before she closed the door she stopped to say a few last words. "Nice scream…but how could you forget, thanks to toxic mold…I've already seen everything." Greg's face reddened as the door shut in front of his face.

* * *

"Oh my…it's…it's beautiful." It was all Sara could say as she stood in awe of the large futuristic building standing in front of her. 

"Sara, you need a life." He grabbed her by the arm to help her inside. "I wouldn't call it beautiful…I mean, it's just a building."

"It's not just a building…it's the one thing keeping us from being the best lab in the country." They followed their tour group through to the main lab.

They were showed how smoothly everything always ran at this lab. It was in a sense, disappointing. It seemed like nothing special. It was just like their own lab, but if everyone had been sent a memo to agree with whatever Ecklie says, right or not, just to avoid any conflicts outsiders might see. She couldn't figure out what all the hype was about. Their lab could be just as much of a well oiled machine if someone in a high place could find it with in themselves to just oust Ecklie.

All cases they mentioned that they were in the process of wrapping were all simple slam dunk cases even Greg could close in one shift. They had nothing nearly as weird as many of the cases they had worked on in just the last two weeks.

She was about to scream when they all got a lecture on the importance of teamwork and cooperation. Obviously they hadn't yet heard of the super crime fighting team that was CSI Sidle and CSI Sanders. They could write about on the art of working together. No one could possibly out team them. She knew right them the trip had just been a cruel form of punishment ordered by Ecklie himself. He never had been too fond of her and now Greg was going down with her.

"Sara…you can not plot revenge on your supervisor's supervisor…you will lose you're job, and with that, your whole existence." Greg was struggling to keep up with the angered Sara as she marched down the hallway back to their room. He knew he was moving into dangerous territory by telling a very ticked off Sara that she shouldn't be so ticked of by something, but he had to do it.

"Well when we get back he's certainly going to hear a piece of my mind."

After they were both inside the place they had called home for the past few days he grabbed both of her arms and shook her slightly, the only way to get her attention. "Hey! It's not a big deal…you've got to settle down."

"And how exactly do you suppose I could do that?" She still sounded angry, the last thing Greg wanted.

"Pile on some warm clothes." He ordered motioning towards the closet.

She was still rather annoyed. "Why?"

"Because you thought today would be fun and it wasn't, so I'm going to do something to fix all that." He took out a black sweater and slipped it on over his head in demonstration. "Come on Sara…you were the one who wanted to make sure we had fun no matter how incredibly boring everything else was."

She smiled and grabbed her favorite olive green sweater and put in on over top what she was already wearing. She looked around for where she had left her coat, but couldn't find it.

"You threw it over there…remember." She ran over beside her bed, bent down and retrieved the department issue parka that had hardly been used back in Vegas. "And you'll need a hat and gloves too."

"Where are we going?" she insisted.

"The more questions, the longer until you find out." That was it . She hated not knowing things. She liked being pleasantly surprised, but she hated having to wait forever to find out about the things she was specifically told she wasn't allowed to know about yet. It only made things worse. They were both out of the door in a mater of seconds.

_Sometimes the last thing you want comes in first  
Sometimes the first thing you want never comes  
But I know that waiting is all you can do sometimes

* * *

_

Sorry for any mistakes, I got like four and a half hours of sleep because of my friend's birthday party. I'm not exactly awake. 


	4. Tests of Trust

_How incredibly stupid of myself. I usually do all kinds of weird research for whatever story on which I'm currently working to make sure they're as accurate as possible. I actually checked up to see what exact exhibits were in the Smithsonian, but some how I missed the fact that the FBI Headquarters in Virginia is the number one lab in the country, not DC as I said, thanks to whomeverpointed that out to me. I think this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I thought that what I would have added on to the ending would make more sense in the next chapter._

* * *

"No way Greg!" She began upon seeing the frozen ice rink in front of the two of them. It was full of people and had faint music playing lightly in the background. "Ice skating…are you serious?" He just nodded. "No…I can't skate…if I can't dance, I can't ice skate either."

He grinned. "Well you'll be doing both whether you like it or not."

"Oh really?" she asked as he paid for both of their skates.

"Yes, tomorrow night, I will be dancing even if I have to ditch the spoil sport I came here with or not." He was kidding, there wasn't anyone else he would rather have by his side than her.

She sat down beside him on the bench just near by to lace up her skates. So far she was going along with the whole idea, but she wasn't so sure about it. "But I'm completely graceless…I'm clumsy…I--"

"You'll do just fine." He interrupted. "And it help you any…I'm not too great either." He said it like it was so amazing that he, Greg Sanders, was incapable of doing something.

"Yeah, I didn't think so.."

"Hey…" He stood up and helped her to her feet. Her ankles wobbled a bit as she made her way to the entrance to the ice. "Don't worry…if you feel like you're going to fall…I'll be right here to catch you." He leaned over to whisper into her ear. "You can't make a good team without trust…right?"

"Thank you."But for once, shesounded worried.

Actually, Sara took right to it once she went around the circle two or three times to get the feel of it. Greg, however, wasn't as great as he expected he could have been. He was more wobbly than Sara was, although she had actually been ice skating before, unlike Greg, though it many years back. Sara had just begun to warm up to skating backwards instead.

"Okay…you've got to tell me if I'm going to run into anyone…okay." She warned him with a laughing tone in the back of her voice. She didn't have eyes in the back of her head, and it was a literal pain in the neck to constantly look behind her.

"Coast is clear."

"Okay, take my hands." She offered them out straight in front of her." Good, now try to hold your balance and I'll just pull you along."

"Oh so now you're Olympic ready? You can do anything."

"Well, I wouldn't say anything."

"Should I be worried?"

"Of course not…you're supposed to be trusting me too. It goes both ways."

"Fine then…you're holding my life in your hands." He looked away from him his feet for a moment and smiled up to her. "No pressure…"

"Since you were so concerned with what I'll be wearing to this dinner…what do you have planned for yourself…crazy patterned shirts…a powder blue suit…what?"

"I would only do that for lab stuff, you know, people who know me. All the people who'll be at this one are stuffy older people or…well, not like me. I like to be different…not stick out like a sore thumb." It made sense, and frankly she had been a little bit concerned of what he might choose for his own formal attire. She was feeling a much better now. "As for the specifics…you'll just have to wait to find out."

Just then her blade got stuck in a chip in the ice and began to fall forward. Preparing to catch herself on instinct, she let go of his hands, her arms went flailing out in front of her and in the process threw Greg off balance and tumbling backwards.

"Are you okay?" Sara scrambled to move after she fell on him. All he did was laugh, he was lying flat on his back in the middle of the ice rink, a rather humorous sight within itself. It was much later than when they had arrived and by then many of the people who were there had already left so there wasn't as much of an urgency to get right up and going again. He felt if he did he'd be to dizzy and fall once again. "Greg answer me."

"Well…I didn't catch you, but my fluffiness softened your fall."

"Yes, we seem to be doing this quite often…" Sara helped him stand up and escorted him off the ice. It was getting late it was near nine thirty, maybe not so late, but they knew the ice skating rink would be closing soon anyway. It had already drawn dark an hour or so back. It would have been a picture perfect night had they not been in the middle of a city where the stars couldn't be seen. It had also gotten much colder in comparison to when they first came. Even though he had so graciously lent his scarf to Sara, her cheeks and nose had turned a bright pink. Who ever said he had completely forgotten about snow, it was Sara who hadn't come prepared. Though because of his hospitality, Greg could hardly feel his own face, but he didn't really care. They quickly returned their rented footwear and headed on for their much warmer home.

* * *

"Do you think I'm boring?" Sara asked looking for a honest answer. 

"Why would you think that?" Once they returned from downtown, they had since changed into warm clothes and made a pot of coffee, not good coffee, but hot coffee.With a cup of coffee warming her hand, Sara had taken the down comforter off her bed and sat on the floor in front of the television on which Sara had found Raiders of the Lost Ark happened to be on. Although he wasn't so into having to sit through a movie where he knew she would be staring at the screen too much to realized he was there along with Mr. Ford himself, Greg decided to do the same thing because it looked comfortable and he was still freezing.

"It's just…the only time I ever have any fun is when you're around and make me do things I didn't think I wanted to do. And, it's times like these that I love just as much…nights at home in my pajamas watching a good movie, opposed to a fancy night out…usually I have ice cream too, but that doesn't sound warm enough right now."

"No Sara, you aren't boring. And believe it or not this here is exactly what I do at night after shift. So if you're boring, I am too."

"Yeah right." She laughed before bringing the coffee cup up to her lips.

"Yep…it isn't fun to do things alone…and I talk to my cat sometimes too…if that says anything."

"No way…you have a cat?" She had no idea, she always knew stuff like that, but for some reason she missed this one.

"Well actually I just got him a month ago. I just thought with work and all, I just needed somebody to come home to. Otherwise, it's just lonely." She knew exactly what he was talking about, the point when things get so bad with cases you can't take it anymore, except she didn't have anyone there for her…or so she thought. "His name is Charlie, but he looks a bit like Garfield; orange and kind of fat. You could use a furry friend, you know."

"Yeah…actually I could, but I not to good with animals. I think I went through a dozen goldfish after I lived with my foster parents."

"You broke my record."

"Well, I could have had a higher number, but my parents wouldn't let me have a pet…you know, things were…complicated." She explained vaguely. She thought she had told him plenty enough during their airport stay. She wasn't really up to discussing it in depth with him. Even after all those years, it still was a soft spot to her, pretty much Sara's only weakness when it came to work and other aspects of her life.

"Greg…" She set her cup off to the side and pulled the blanket closer to her. "Um…do you know that you talk in your sleep?" She wearily asked him. She didn't really want to bring the subject up once again, but she felt she had to let him know.

"No…why? Have I been?" He looked nervous.

"Yeah…actually you have." His face dropped as soon as she answered. "You were talking about Grissom…and me."

"Oh…" She knew now. She knew everything or almost everything.

"Thank you…"

"What!" That was the last thing he expected to hear from her. She had heard all the ways and all the reasons he couldn't stand Grissom. She had heard all about how he thought that she and the one person she loved should never be together.

"I'm just tired of waiting for Grissom to make up his mind…do something, anything…tell me exactly how he feels about me…emotions…when I know very well that he'll never get to it…He can't. That's just not who he is. You're right. I'm done and I need to get over it for my own good. I mean, if I don't, I might just go crazy." She spewed ot all out rather quickly, though without stumbling over any words. She had thought an awful lot about the subject.

"You mean you haven't already?" He asked with a grin.

"Sanders!" She sat with her jaw dropped before she thought to grab her pillow and chuck it at him. But when she went for retaliation she completely missed. She tried quickly to get to the pillow before he could, but she failed. He held it up in his right hand preparing to throw it back in her direction when Sara raised her hands. "No don't…" She squealed. "I surrender!"

"Oh, you surrender?" He tossed the pillow aside and moved closer to her. "You said I didn't know you all too well…" He laced his fingers with her, just as she was about to drop them down to her sides. "…but I do know that Sara Sidle isn't one to just surrender…ever." As Greg loosened the hold on one of her hands, she grasped the front of his sweatshirt and pressed her lips against his on an impulse. Although, as soon as it registered to her what she had just done, she backed away, picked up her blanket, and left to go to bed, all without a word.

By all means, Greg wasn't completely against it, but he was a bit shocked and extremely confused. It was Sara after all. It was very much unlikeher to do anything of the sort. She was the kind of person to think through things before actually going through with them. She would determine all the possible outcomes, weight the positives and negatives and then take the rational way out. The scientific approach, she had always been that way, which was why it seemed so random, out of the blue.

He just couldn't figure why she did it. Was it just a device to force herself to get over Grissom and finally move on with her life or was it an attempt to not be that sensible person he expected her to be. She was worried about being boring or just too predictable, doing nearly the same things every day. Maybe it was something else, but he doubted that. It was Sara he was talking about, the person he was just friends with and as he pictured it, until now, with whom he would always be just friends.

He picked up his coffee cup that had been tipped over in the process, luckily he had already finished the last drop left before hand. "Sara…" He needed to talk to her, but he wasn't sure if she would. He left his warm blanket where it laid on the floor and went over to her. Her head was buried beneath the covers into her pillow, when she felt his weight added beside her she only hid more from him. "Sara?" She didn't respond. He carefully pulled the covers down from covering her face. As he ran his hands through her hair he could almost hear her crying. "What's wrong?"

She slowly lifted her head off the pillow, underneath Greg could see small patches of blue that stood out from the rest of the much lighter shade of the pillow. It confirmed that she really had been crying, that and the red puffiness of her eyes.

"I'm not too late…am I?" It was strange to hear such and unsureness, such a vulnerablity in anything thing Sara ever questioned.

"Too late…of course not." She fell into him and hid her face in the crook of his neck. She had always hated for people to see her cry, she had always viewed tears as a sign of weakness. Of course that didn't mean she never let herself cry, because by all means she would herself doing that often, but only when she knew she was alone.

It had been five years, five years that she hadspent turning him down time after time, five years he had to watch from the sidelines as she fell for another man. For five years he taken the title of "friend" over anything else, as he was sure that was as close to her as he would ever get. She had figured he just moved on, as she needed to do so badly. She thought he would have given up much earlier, completely forgot about her, and found himself someone who knew exactly how they felt for him, not one who had been confused about everything up until the last few days, just like herself.

"It's okay Sara." As he gently wiped away a stray tear trailing down the side of her nose, she finally showed a small smile. "Go on, go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow." He bent down beside her and tenderly placed a kiss upon her forehead. "Good night, Sara."


	5. Ol' Brown Eyes?

_Whoa, it's been like a week since I've updated...that's a first. And yes it is pretty short in comparison to other chapters. I don't know if I'm losing my inspiration or if it's just that fact I have so much other work to do as well. It's weird that the "Kiss Kiss, Bye Bye" episode had Greg and the fedora thing, because I wrote that into the first story I posted and then a while later it actually happened on the show. The same way with the Yoko Ono reference, but I just had to have the hat make a comeback in this one too._

* * *

On every other morning Greg and Sara would either have breakfast in the restaurant downstairs on the first floor of the hotel or something quick at the café down the street. The café was preferred more by Greg because they sold comparatively good coffee and he didn't need to get up nearly as early, as they would just take it to go and head on to the convention events. This morning was a bit different. 

It was much later in the morning, but for once that didn't really make a difference as they hadn't planned to go anywhere until at most dinnertime. As she sat up and stretched her arms above her head, she watched Greg tip the man at the door and carry a tray into the main room. He set it down on the small table before he realized she was already awake and carefully observing his every move.

"Well, If it's not Sleeping Beauty…" He smiled at her appearance. Her eyes were squinted, still adjusting to the bright light filtering it's way into the room through the breakbetween the curtains. And although he knew she never really made a priority of her appearance, but her dark hair was bunched up to one side, was a tad frizzy on top, and was beginning to curl at the ends. He didn't care much either.

"Are you sure you're not thinking of her evil step sister?"

"No…don't even get me started as to why not. I'll never shut up and breakfast would get cold."

She swung her feet off the side of her bed and walked over to the chair opposite of him. "No chocolate chip pancakes?"

"No, only blueberry…plus they couldn't make 'em like I can." He handed hers across the table.

"You are the master of fattening pancakes." There was a whole story behind this odd specialty of his. After all, she and Greg had been borderlinefriends/co-workers before this work related vacation. They lived in the same apartment building as of lately when Sara of all people had been evicted from her old one for some incredibly stupid mistake on her behalf. They once or twice had congregated at either of their places after a rough day at work for Las Vegas' best pancakes and a good movie. He figured tonight's events, which she was very much dreading, merited an excuse for an equally good substitute, minus the movie because they had a lot of talking to do.

They began to eat the food on their plates in front of them, though both still in silence until Sara spoke up. "I'm sorry…"

"Why?" He figured to what she was referring, but he just didn't know why she would be sorry for it.

"My mental breakdown…the fact that I waited so long to do anything about this…whatever 'this' maybe."

"I know…it's this weird…confusing…strange, but complicated thing. It makes no sense, but we've got something there…something that could potentially be the greatest thing I've ever had…and for that…I would wait for as long as it might take just to have it."

"No…don't say that…" Her eyes were rimmed with a few tears that were still unsure whether they wanted to say put or continue down her face.

"Why can't I?" He said, more angrily that he had originally intended.

"I'm just afraid, okay Greg…" She didn't really want to go into it.

He set his fork down on his plate and stopped eating. "Why? What is there to be afraid of…"

"Every time I'm finally happy…I find some way to screw it all up…and I don't want to do it again…"

"Sara…that's not going to happen." She was talking about Hank.Greghad beenthere with her through the whole thing. He had the man pegged even before the two got serious as someone who would only cause problems. He knew how bad she had taken it after she had found out the truth in the worst way, and he never wanted to see her like that again.

"So…where do we go from here?"

"Where ever the time decides to take us..fate...or whatever theheckyou want to call it. No worries, no regrets, just what we think is right for us."

* * *

"Why can't this whole thing just be casual or even semiformal?" Greg heard Sara's voice complain from within the bathroom as they both got ready for their night out. 

"Well that would take the torture out of it." He answered trying to tie the lime colored tie draped around his neck. It took him a few uneventful attempts before he got it right. He was aware that Sara could, but he wasn't about to result in asking his date to tie him tie for him. "Are you done yet?" He knocked on the bathroom door impatiently.

Soon after the door opened and Sara stepped out. Her arms were folded and her head was dropped. She felt rather awkward in a dress, though this particular one was the most comfortable one she had come across. "Greg…stop staring!" It only made things worse.

"You look amazing Sara…" She shook her head in disbelief. "Trust me." The infamous dress was just plain black, understated, and didn't really draw too much attention to itself, at least not from those whose names weren't Greg Sanders. It wasn't at all low cut in the front, but instead showed the delicate nature of her collarbone, something you wouldn't normally notice in her everyday work wear. The back, however, was what he guessed he liked the most about the whole ensemble. Though the front was quite conservative, when she turned around it dipped down near the small of her back. It wasn't too short or too long, hitting just mid calf. It didn't accentuate the fact she was nearly the same height as Greg even without the heels strapped around her ankles. "Get over here." He instead took her hand and placed the other on her bareback. Sara's head rested on his shoulder.

"You know, this dancing thing might not be so bad after all…but let's save it for all the old fuddy duddies at the dinner." Greg grabbed his black pinstriped jacket and put it on over his black dress shirt and the green tie that just made her shake her head. "You're ready?" She didn't think he would be because he hadn't yet fussed with his mop of hair for at least a half an hour. It hadn't yet been coated in a layer of hair gunk to make it stand straight on end.

"Not quite." He picked up the black fedora from it's place a top his suit case, flipped it gracefully on to his head, and tilted it slightly to one side. No wonder, normally a hat couldn't fit over his hair. "Now…are you ready?"

She slipped on her coat quickly." Why yes Mr. Sanders." She linked her arm with his and proceeded through the doorway.

* * *

"Okay, so they're not all old fuddy duddies…" Greg mentioned to Sara as they entered the ballroom to see that many of the people there look to be near their age and the music playing throughout the room, thought it wasn't exactly Greg's taste, it was rather recent with some classics thrown in to the mix. 

"Plus, open bar…" Sara perked up, though Greg didn't look too happy. "No…it's just fun to watch other people make fools of themselves, you know drinks, dancing…hilarious…like weddings."

"Weddings?"

"What else are you supposed to do when you go to a friend's wedding alone?"

After they had downed their dinner, prime rib for him, and of course a veggie pasta dish for her, he had managed to drag her on to the dance floor. He came to find she could dance, very well at that, it was just she never really wanted to before, or she simply had no one to dance with. Both of them had been erased, thanks in part to Greg. For some reason, Sara found that she could really open up when she was around Greg and Greg alone. She could be herself, and not just the boring workaholic with no life like everyone expected her to be. Perhaps it was that fact the Greg made an utter fool of himself on the regular daily basis, so one stupid thing she might say or do wouldn't really make a difference in comparison.

A while ago, the DJ decided to play a medley of, very fittingly for the two of them, old Vegas tunes, a mix of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and the rest of the bunch. So of course, since he was dressed for the part, he took Sara for a spin around the floor in an attempt to show up all the so called old folks. And the two of them did, by a longshot. Though they had to admit, it was more fun to be a spectator at their lab's annual bashes. At least there there was the possiblity of finding some really good blackmail stories or pictures take inconspicuously by his camera phone. That was especially interesting whenever Eclkie was involved. This time, however, they knew no one but each other.

After a while, Greg lifted his dislike for Sara to wander anywhere near the bar, and actually joined her for a drink. It was a special occasion, not just Sara drinking alone in her apartment because she had nothing better to do. Yes, he cared about what happened to her, but he didn't want to be like her controlling dictator. She had been complaining about the immense pain in her feet and gladly plopped down in the nearest chair she found. She slipped her toes out of the painful black pumps and set them on the floor underneath her chair. She didn't care that she just happened to currently be at a fancy work related affair, she shoes were coming off whether they liked it or not. As she sat back up in her seat, Greg was walking back over with two champagne glasses in hand…not exactly Sara's style, but it would do.

"So you can dress 'em up, but you can't take them out?" He laughed, sitting down beside her to take a rest himself.

"Well, we don't have to worry about that with you do we…even Frank himself would be jealous." She paused for a quick moment. "But I doubt he'd wear that tie."

"To what shall we toast?" He raised his glasses then realized he had nothing to say.

"To Vegas and how they should be missing us dearly, even Ecklie…because frankly I'm not too excited to go back." She clinked her glass against his and downed a portion of it before Greg had the chance to do or say anything.

"You who despised the idea of coming here in the first place, now doesn't want to go back home?" He couldn't understand it. Her job was in Las Vegas…so therefore in a roundabout way her whole life resided there as well. "Greg…I don't mean I never want to go back…it's just nice to have a vacation from all of it...a mental break to keepme from going completely off the deep end."

"Woah…Sara actually likes vacation time! Is that a sign of the apocalypse or what?"

"Hey, I have taken time off before…" She argued.

"Yes, but only when you would have been fired if you didn't."

Sara got up from her seat and walked over, in her barefeet of course, to the French doors to the balcony that was at the time covered in snow. She looked down at the bare street below them. It was funny how at night people in DC were either at such events like the one they were attending or were all comfortably at home in the outlying Virgina or Maryland with their families. No one looked to be comutting from one way to another, it was like everything stood still for a moment, similar to how Sara felt at the time...frozen somewhere other than reality.

"What's going to happen when we go back to work? We work together, we see each other everyday...that could get messy?" She finally turned around to face him instead of the absence of traffic. "What happens if 'this' messes with work and Ecklie decides to split us up? We could be working different shifts..."

"You haven't learned anything at all from this convention stuff...teamwork Sara...we are the best damn team the lab has ever seen...we know what were doing and being personally involved can't change that." She perked a small smile and left a soft peck upon his lips. He rested his forehead against hers as he spoke. "Why don't we head on home..."

* * *

Well, I'll update as soon as I can, but no promises it'll be any less than a few days. I'll try my best. 


	6. Enough with the Questions

_Okay, this is where the chapter rating takes affect. I'm not good with scenes like this, but hopefully I brought it across in a tastefully vague but effective way...I don't know...I just hope this ending does the rest of the story justice...sorry it's a bit on the shorter side._

* * *

One moment Greg had suggested they return on home, and the next thing Sara knew, she was being carried down the hallway in Greg's arms. At the time she was seriously regretting how she had complained the whole taxi ride about how her feet hurt, how she wanted to make a crime scene of the person, who was most likely a man, who had invented the idea of high heels, and how she wanted to get home as quick as possible. Obviously it had gotten on Greg's nerves to the point the was going to end it then and there. As soon as the two of them had stepped out of the elevator he had swept her off her feet and began sprinting down the hallway, well a slow sprint, considering the extra weight. Normally if he did anything of the sort she would have a few yelling words of opposition, but she restrained herself simply because of the chance people were fast asleep behind each door they passed. 

However, when the door to their room closed behind them, she definitely had something to say. "Put me down…" She her arms flailing to get he point across had already caused her to drop the evil black shoes on the floor right inside the doorway. "You're going to hurt yourself…I weigh more than you might think." Even though she was a tad angry, there was a sense of laughter in her voice.

Just then he tripped over the throw rug laying between the two twin beds in the room in which they had been staying for nearly a week, so he knew it was there. Sara had only seen him drink one glass of champagne, she knew that was simply not enough to make him so clumsy, but before she knew it, she fell on to the mattress nearest the window with a thud. "Sara…" He kissed her softly on the lips, then once again along her jaw line. "I'm sorry…" He whispered through a smile.

"I told you so…" She scolded, looking up into his eyes, as he hadn't moved since she was so gracefully dropped. "And, uh…you weight a bit more…than I thought you did." She said between breathes.

Greg noticed a mischievous grin spread across her face and for once he was incapable of reading into it. He had gotten so good at reading Sara like a book, but this Sara that he was looking at from above was much different, though not at all in a bad way. He actually liked this new gleam in her eye. She wanted to be unpredictable and she happened to be well on her way. Just then, Sara chose to roll the two of them to suddenly switch places. Whoever said he was a skinny whisp of a man certainly had not been in her position. Her hand wandered down to find his tie and relieve his neck from the restriction the lime green silk had on him and then tossed it over near his suitcase of the same custom color.

"Sara…" His brown eyes didn't take the time to part from hers. "…are you sure about this?" Before this trip, they hadn't been much more than co-workers let alone good friends, and now this. He didn't want to take things too far out of her comfort zone that they both would end up regretting later on. Sara was worried about things going completely wrong if they got too serious about this thing between them too fast.

"Stop, just stop asking questions, stop worrying about the future, what is right and what might go wrong...I love you Greg…"

"And I love you Sara…actually…I always have…for years, I have..." Sara stole a quick kiss to end his ramblings.

"That's all that really matters right?" She asked it as a question, but he didn't bother to answer it. He lifted a hand off the bed linens and placed it upon the side of her face, bringing her face down closer to his, their lips met in the middle. After a while the little black dress that Greg had been so excited to see come out of her suitcase had suddenly been forgotten about and laid lifelessly in a random spot on the floor. And the on going depute about which of them got the window side bed with a view was no longer an issue between the two.

* * *

The next morning Sara awoke to something much different than she had become accustomed to over the past few days. Instead of feeling the cool sheets upon her even colder bare feet, she could sense the warmth emanating from Greg's body lying close beside her. It brought a smile to her face as she heard soft snores escaping from his mouth facing in the opposite direction. Now, opposed to the airplane flight from Las Vegas, she didn't mind it so much. Instead of jumping straight out of bed as soon as she opened her eyes as she usually did, she relaxed a bit, rested her head back down upon his chest and just took a moment to soak it all in before they both got up and began their trek back home. 

She was just about to be lulled back to sleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, when he awoke suddenly. "Good morning…" She said as she opened her eyes to rest their sight on his face. She smiled before closing her eyes once again.

"Sara…" He whined. "…come on. We've got to get up." He nudged her side with his fingertips hoping it would make her move.

"Our plane doesn't leave until noon…" She lifted her head enough to see the clock upon the nightstand read nine o'clock and then returned to where it once laid.

"Don't you forget, we have to pack?"

"Correction…_you_ need to pack. I did before we went to dinner." She gestured in the direction of her black suitcase inside her empty closet and then to his in the opposite corner open with clothing just tossed inside flowing over the sides.

"Well…I was going to after dinner…but we both know how that didn't happen." Sara didn't say anything and after a moment of silence, he got up. He picked up the black pants and the button down of the same color off the floor and tucked them underneath his arm as he tossed Sara's dress in her direction. "You missed one…"

* * *

Greg was placing their carry on bags into the overhead compartment as soon as they got to their designated seats on the airplane destined for home. Of course this time around they made an effort to back extra clothes and other necessities inside those bags just in case another inconvenience decided to test their patience on the way back. Just as he sat down, Sara spoke. 

"Did I ever tell you how--" Greg cut her off before she could finish what she was about to say, as thought he knew before hand.

"…how much you hate airplanes, right?" After all, she had said it twice now. Wasn't three the magic number.

"No…how I'm actually happy that I went on this trip how ever horrible or boring it might have been at one point or another."

"So…what are we going to tell Grissom when he asks?" Greg mentioned buckling his seat belt before the plane was to take off.

"The truth…" She received a side ways glance. She wasn't serious…was she? She couldn't be. He couldn't imagine that conversation in Grissom's office…talk about awkward. "Part of the convention stressed the importance of teamwork and trust and after this week we have become a better more trusting partnership." She said with a straight face as if she was telling it to Gil right then and there. Then a smile perked out of the seriousness. "The rest of it…well he'll just have to find out on his own time."

"What about Ecklie?" Greg inquired, grabbing her hand as the speed of the plane increased to comfort her, as he knew she still had a strong dislike for flying. "Toilet papering or no toilet papering?"

"Actually, I'm seriously thinking about picking up a thank you card on the way home from the airport."

"Wait, that there is a sure sign of the apocalypse, forget what I said before." Sara hated Ecklie more than anyone, well, maybe not more than Grissom did, but a close second. "Why would you ever do that?"

"He's supposed to be the people person, right?" Greg nodded slightly. "What if maybe he knew that we would…ah, never mind. I'm trying to defend Ecklie. That's just wrong on so many levels." For a moment, she wondered if Ecklie would have known how all this would have turned out. Every one knew that the two of them would be so much happier if they just got together, but Ecklie was the last person to ever want to people who work together to be together in non-work related ways. Maybe if it had been some one like Catherine it would make more sense, but then she realized…if they really were meant to be like this…it would have happened regardless of what other people tried to do to make it happen.

Greg noticed the look on Sara's face, the kind she got when she was deep in thought, the one he loved to see. He didn't bother to ask what it was on her mind, he had learned it was best to just leave it a mystery to everyone but Sara herself. She rested her head upon his shoulder and closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them again they'd be back home to a much different life than the one she had last left behind, what seemed like, so long ago. Greg just wrapped his arm around her and smiled. Things were definitely going to be different, but different in a very good way.


End file.
